Addicting
by nycforme
Summary: Through a few seasons, Eponine's sexual adventures and interests change greatly. From the love of her life to the man she was raised to hate, and a few of the Les Amis in between, Eponine learns about herself, as well as the world, through her sexual escapades. Rated M for sexual content.


Eponine lost her virginity to Marius on a cold Sunday in December. December twenty second, to be exact. It wasn't the romantic, life changing experience she had hoped it would be. Rather, it was awkward, quick, and painful. Marius had laid her back against his starch sheets, eyes wide and palms sweaty as he clumsily fumbled at her breasts, but he was beautiful. Even though goose-bumps had savaged her skin from the cold winter air and it was the middle of the day and she was sure, now that she could see his pale chest, that her grime covered skin was as unappealing as she had feared it would be—Marius was amazing. And beautiful. More beautiful than she'd ever seen him, the grey sunlight flitted through his snow tracked window and danced in the green of his eyes, softening his pale skin and shining in his curls.

Her nails had pierced his skin, causing him to gasp in harmony with her own scream of pain as he entered her. She thought that maybe if she laid still enough pleasure would come, because there had to be more than this. Yearning for years after a man and finally having him fill her completely had to be more rewarding than the burning ripping she felt. His face was screwed shut as he rocked into her again and again, struggling for a rhythm and sending bursts of white hot pain through her as he continued. If not for her own enjoyment, than to distract herself from the ache, she focused on the flush of his cheeks and the beads of sweat forming along his brow. The heat of his body was incredible, surrounding her entire being and warming her to the core. It was the warmest she'd been in ages and his relentless torture between her legs seemed worth the ecstasy of the aching cold falling away from her skin.

It was not long at all and she felt her body asking for something that she did not quite understand as Marius began to thrust quicker and shorter into her. Eyes shut tight and hands clasping her breasts desperately, he pulled away before he filled her. Marius was gasping as he fell back next to her on the sullied sheets, the throbbing between her legs eased to a dull thumping sensation as he continued to struggle for air. This wasn't what she had heard it would be. There was no admission of love or pleasure so mind blowing that she could not think, but the man she loved had found his finish because of her and she would always have that.

"I'm-I'm sorry." He muttered, wiping his face with the back of his hand before standing to search for his trousers.

"Don't, don't be. Thank you." Eponine wasn't quite sure what she was thanking him for; sex wasn't exactly all that it was coped up to be. Between his restless fumbling and the continuous torture between her thighs, she supposed the only thing she could be thankful for was that he would share his first time with her. Their virginities belonged to each other, and no one could steal that from her. Sitting up she clasped the thin sheet to her chest in embarrassment as he dressed quickly, then handed her a handkerchief that he had used to wipe the blood away from his neck. Blushing furiously she thanked him quietly, glad that he averted his gaze as she wiped at the blood that smeared across her thighs. Silently he handed her the dress she'd worn in.

"You don't want to just sit and be for a little while? I won't be a bother, you can go to bed if you wanna." His face flushed into an even further hue of red and she immediately regretted asking to stay. Whether he was embarrassed over the sin they'd committed or that he had shared his body with her of all people, she was unsure. But he had wanted her, that much was sure, enough to lead her up to his room and undress her against his closed door.

She dressed in silence as he looked out his window at the grey snow falling heavily. This was her Christmas presented, she told herself, an early present from God. God had sent her an angel in her times of need, maybe it was his way of making up for the hell she would have to return home to. The dress was too small and tearing in many places, the raggedy material was an embarrassment next to his clean school clothes. But he hadn't minded that as he'd kissed her shoulders and hitched her skirt up to slide a hand between her thighs.

"I'll just let myself out then, thank you, Marius. Merry Christmas." She stopped in the open doorway when she heard him call her name.

"Eponine, I really needed that. Thank you." Looking back at him proved to only be a mistake, he was standing quite still at the window as if looking for something or waiting for something of significance to occur. She wondered if it ever did.

He didn't talk to her for a week, in fact he outright avoided her. She wasn't quite sure why, she'd given him everything she could, hadn't even asked for pleasure in return as Alzema had insisted she should have. But turning corners and entering rooms and simply existing, was suddenly Marius' worst nightmare. Flustered and pink, he back tracked his steps often and receded into quiet corners of rooms. That is, when he was around at all. He avoided her gaze at all cost when she was able to find him with the other students, but most of the time when she went looking for him he was nowhere in sight. Jehan knew nothing of his whereabouts, nor did Courf, nor even Enjolras. Her questioning was answered with shrugs and blank stares, half of her wondered if he'd asked them to lie to her.

On Christmas, Eponine sat at a bench overlooking the water and wondered what Marius thought of her. If somehow the warmth she'd experienced with him was somehow kindled back to him, if he thought of her when he laid in bed at night, if he ached to be connected so intimately with her again. The entire world seemed to be painted a blue that echoed back and forth between the icy water and the biting air. The bench was unforgiving through her thin dress and wrap and she wondered if she would die there, watching the water rush beneath her. The thought occurred to her from a distance, as if somebody else had off handedly asked her the question. A barking laugh escaped her chap lips at her next thought; she wondered how long it would take for anyone to notice she was missing. Her father and mother hadn't even noticed that she wasn't there on Christmas; she wasn't sure if they even realized it was Christmas.

Tilting her head to rest against the back of the bench, Eponine closed her eyes and watched her breath appear in white puffs as darkness began to ravel its cloak around her. Snow was falling again, pricking against her frigid skin and slowly soaking into her already damp clothes, not even conjuring the image of Marius' face screwed up and rocking above her could bring her warmth. Going back home would be the wise thing, she knew, if she wished to avoid freezing to death. But what was the fun in that? She had given Marius everything she could, she was already low enough to not have ever expected a husband, but now she was definitely sullied. No man would ever want her, not for a wife, not to take care of, not to save her from the daily suffering that she was told was called life.

"Marius." His name tumbled from her blue lips like a prayer; snow was gathering heavier on her boots now and soaking her skirts to her ankles as her arms clasped around her midsection. In her mind, he was there now. That smile of his like a ray of sunshine in the dark night, holding out gloved hands that squeezed her fingers in hopes of returning warmth. With utmost delicacy, as if she was a porcelain doll that could be broken, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to his home. "Our home." He whispered, placing a hot kiss into the small of her neck.

Her eyes sprung open at the sound of the boots crunching snow. Standing quickly she hissed at the feeling of her blood rushing too quickly to her head, swaying slightly on her feet she glanced around in the darkness. The city was completely submerged in night, the only lights coming from the windows of those celebrating festivities and the few street lamps scattered along the path of the water. She walked backwards, tripping slightly over her skirts that were weighed down in the snow. A large form was moving in her direction slowly, hunched shoulders and round hat, a police man, presumably of higher rank by the shape of his hat. Eponine moved quicker now, having been raised a Thernadier she was frightened by the approaching form even in this time of innocence.

Even her slim form was enough to make the snow crunch, revealing her presence to the looming man who had looked ready to take a seat on the bench. They held each other's eyes for a moment in silence, her heart jumping into her throat as he remained in a squat above the bench. Eponine broke off in a dead run, her pace quickening as she heard him following behind her at a quick jog. A panicked sweat slicked her skin, burning her against the whipping wind as she scrambled through the streets. If she was escorted home by a police man she knew her father would not be forgiving with his lashings, she could imagine the welts and swollen bruises now, memories more than figments of her imagination. Weeks on end of groaning every time she stood, or even worse, squinting to see through a swollen eye—her thoughts only served as more motivation to her sprint. Turning the corner, merely two blocks away from the shabby flat, she let out a shriek of horror as a gloved hand clasped around her wrist.

"Silence!" Yanking her to face him, his identity was revealed by lamp light at last. Her mouth shut out of more shock than obedience, Inspector Javert. Of course, she could almost laugh as she tilted her head up toward the falling snow, of course if anyone was to chase her through the streets on Christmas it would be the Inspector.

"Inspector." She was out of breath, her chest heaving as he kept her thin wrist clasped in his cool, leather glove. His breath was heavy on her face, warm, smelling of something unfamiliar and making her cringe. Small grey eyes were burrowed beneath his thick eyebrows which were clasped together as he stared down at her, his thin lips straightened into a perfect line. He stood a good half of a foot taller than her, is posture perfect even as he held her quivering form close to him. If he hadn't been holding her captive, she might have found his annoyance at her writhing away from him to be amusing. But there was nothing amusing about her situation; finding their daughter caught in the claws of the law would not be the Christmas present her parents would take lightly to. That would be her fate though, with sweat forming at her brow and a flush coming to her cheeks she realized there was no avoiding her family name or the trouble she would be in simply for bearing it.

"What makes a young woman leave her home on Christmas to stand out in the snow? Would it be the same sort of illegal activities which forces an Inspector to hunt her down in said snow?" Panic dried her throat.

"Don't you have something better to do than chasing young women down in the snow?" She yanked her wrist from his grasp, ignoring the way his eyebrows rose to further reveal the emptiness of his grey eyes,

"I did no wrong. Go home to your wife, Merry Christmas." Taking a step away from him, rubbing her wrist as she went, she listened for boots crunching snow but the sound never came. Feigning nonchalance she continued on her way down the alley.

"Mademoiselle, you ran from the law. I could take you to court for the offense." He had not said her name; she felt the fist around her heart unclench at the very idea of it. Even if she was hauled in tonight her sentence would be lightened just by giving a faux name, there was no reason for charges to be pressed higher than necessary if she wasn't her father's daughter.

"Yes you could." She continued on, his feet unmoving behind her. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he was going to let her go. But she knew Inspector Javert, knew _of_ him at the very least, and from what she'd heard he was not a man to let a crime slip under his nose. Not even on Christmas was he known to be lenient.

"Merry Christmas, Thernadier." Panic swelled in her throat and she remained frozen as she listened to his heavy tracks in the snow. But upon turning, she found that his bulky figure was moving in the opposite direction, back toward the way they'd come. Confused but not dumb enough to argue, she sprinted away from the light of the lantern.

Skirts dragging in the snow and trembling fingers clutching her wrap closer to her frail shoulders Eponine made her way home, in the dark, to be welcomed home not with Christmas cheer but with a slap to the cheek for being disobedient enough to go missing on Christmas. Surprised they even noticed, she was unsure whether to be grateful or not for their care to notice, it was not long before her body found its bed and she sat staring at the ceiling. Thoughts of the Inspector were pushed away quickly, she had no reason to be grateful to that rat of the law. She'd done nothing wrong, he'd only done his duty in letting an innocent woman go free. In fact, if she let her mind wander, she was back at Marius' and staring at the ceiling with a blush high in her ears as he undressed at the foot of the bed. Sleep took her before she could contemplate the heat pooling between her legs at her own conflicting thoughts.

Spring came with weaker winds and Eponine's strong determination to have Marius bed her properly. She'd tired of sneaking around corners and waiting outside his room, instead she'd busied herself with sitting in the back of the Les Amis meetings with her feet tilted up on a table and a glass of wine sitting in front of her. Most of the time she didn't drink much of it, although there was always a student willing to let her have the drink for free and the warmth that heated her stomach and left her cheeks flushed was quite satisfying, she usually found herself feeling groggy and unable to form complete sentences if she drank too much.

The sleepiness meant that Marius was able to slip out of the room before she was able to catch him and seduce him. They'd talked little since before Christmas and when they did talk it was the simplest of phrases, "Eponine, please remove your boots from my pamphlet" or "Eponine your sleeve is close to the candle, again." Either way, she hungered for him every day and night, unable to forget the feeling of his nervous hands fidgeting between her thighs or his clumsy lips causing his cool nose to bump against her neck.

There was a night in the middle of spring, when Enjolras ended the meeting early so he could revise his own paperwork, when Eponine had finished the contents of her glass and was still able to stand straight and proud. Courfeyrac and she had been the only ones left in Enjolras' company, sitting at their table in the corner with a bottle of wine between them and their heads bent close together as he twirled her hair around his finger. Foreheads bent together, cheeks flushed, breath of wine mingling together as Courfeyrac continued to drink from the bottle.

"This means nothing." Her words were hoarse as he'd wedged his knee between her thighs, one hand tangled in her unruly hair as his free hand fought to open the door to his flat.

"Obviously, Eponine, sex means nothing. It is an art form, an expression of gifts and talents, nothing more." And with those words he'd dipped his head down between her legs and had her writhing in pleasurable agony, choking out his name and gripping his clean, blonde hair between her sweating palms. His beard tickled her thighs, adding a sensation so unfamiliar and glorious she outright giggled at the feeling. Gifted as he was, he lifted a hand and had her undressed even as he continued driving her toward the edge with such casualness that she positively envied him. One hand brought the dark tips of her breasts to points, leaving her to toss her head back in ecstasy as she finally understood. Yes, this was what her body had wanted from Marius. This euphoria that left her trembling as Courfeyrac stood before her, a smug smirk splayed across his face as he dropped his trousers and climbed over her, knowing she was completely lost to her own pleasure.

"Don't think about Marius." He whispered against her ear, dropping hot kisses to the side of her neck before entering her with a lustful thrust. Calling out she exposed her neck to him, lost in the hot frenzy of his delicious tongue tasting her sweat. If she could bottle this moment and keep it with her to replay whenever she'd like, she would. _This_ was what completion felt like, being filled to the brink of insanity with a man who was so sure of himself it infuriated her. It lasted much longer than it lasted with Marius, which Eponine was grateful for, the feeling of his large hands skimming over the skin of her stomach before finding the weak spot between their joined bodies confused her until she felt another swell of passion. With a scream of astonished pleasure, Eponine trembled beneath his lithe body, jumping at the feeling of his warm seed spilling onto her stomach.

Courfeyrac fell atop her, persistently pressing kisses to her flushed cheeks and burning ears. She kissed him slowly, seeking acceptance for an act that had confused her so greatly until tonight. His swollen lips lingered against hers in a smile before he rolled away, grabbing a rag to wipe their stomachs clean with. The wash bin was free for her to use, which she did while her body remained in a state of perpetual blushing at her nudity. Washing away the grime in her hair, scrubbing the dirt off of her neck, and finally wiping their passed fluids off of her stomach and legs, she stood nude in the middle of his room waiting for him to return with the promised clothing. When he did, he revealed it was simply one of his cotton shirts, which she pulled on quickly before going to lay on the bed. Cuddled up beneath his blankets, the thickest she'd ever encountered, she watched in silence as he dipped her clothes in the bucket and scrubbed away at them for her. The simple kindness of the act made her skin crawl and she spoke hoarsely over the sounds of water sloshing in the bucket.

"You know, you don't have to do that. We agreed sex is nothing, we don't owe each other anything."

"I'm not doing this because I owe you, I'm doing this because we're friends. At least, I thought we were friends," He sent a smile in her direction, he didn't even seem mad that her wet hair was dampening his pillows, "and because whoever else you're fooling around with hasn't had the decency to tell you that your dress reeks." She flushed and shot a few brightly colored words his way, then dozed off as she watched him hang the rags she called clothing out on the wire.

She awoke to a brutal headache that pounded behind her eyes and an empty flat. A part of her mind had expected her to awaken as sore and miserable as she had the day after she'd been with Marius, but she stood with no trouble or aches. Finding her clothes folded with a green apple atop them, she would have to remember to thank Courfeyrac at the next meeting. Unless she was expected not to discuss it with him? But if it meant nothing then what did it matter if she were to bring it up? She supposed it wouldn't hurt to whisper a few words of appreciation to him and wait for a reaction, either way it wouldn't be the worst thing if Marius found out that she had taken another lover. This thought had her skipping out of the building and onto the cool streets, her clothes feeling lighter and more comfortable in the spring wind as she bit into her apple. Wonderful! It felt wonderful; needs that she didn't even know existed had been satisfied!

Bliss does not last forever, and the end to this joy was in the form of Inspector Javert. She'd only arrived on the landing of where her family was staying to see the Inspector standing with a notepad, nose cringed at the putrid smell of her mother's cooking and eyebrows furrowed as he took of note of whatever her father was babbling about. Embarrassment sent a rush of heat to her cheeks, pocketing her apple discreetly in her skirt as she prepared to fight for her father's doubted innocence, knowing all future run-ins with the inspector would not end as luckily as they had last time.

"Eponine!" To her surprise, her father took her in his arms kindly, pressing sloppy kisses to the top of her head and grabbing her by the forearms to examine her.

"My darling! My pearl! My sunshine! You've come home! We were so horribly worried about you, isn't that right, wife?" His voice was higher than usual; the sickening lies made her cringe and avoid eye contact with the inspector. Perhaps if she remained silent and oblivious she could escape this encounter sooner rather than later.

"It is! It is! We were just warning the Inspector over here that if anything ill were to come to you, he'd be the one to pay!" At her mother's words Eponine was forced to look up at the man in confusion. The same as she remembered, his eyes showed no display of emotion. Empty grey orbs that looked at her in nothing but annoyance.

"Where were you, girl?" It was not the disdainful tone her father usually spoke to her with, but his filth covered hand clutched her cheek with the closest thing to gentility she'd ever felt from him.

"I was out." The heat that flooded her face had apparently clogged her brain of all good lies.

"Yes, my dear, we know. We thought you were abducted! We had to call this kind gentleman over to help find you! Where on earth did you go?"

"I was with a friend." This time she spoke as she moved to enter the small flat, but her father's grip tightened on her arm as he pulled her to face him. Pushing her against the wall brutally, she gasped at the feeling of her head hitting wood, his sneering face and tight grip all the warning she needed as he rasped out his order. Over his shoulder, the sunlight shone through and cast the Inspector in shadow, but from the tilt of his head it was obvious he had averted his eyes. There was something about his grey eyes that stayed with her though, burned into her memory even when she could not see them.

"You'll tell the kind Inspector where you've been to, and you'll do so quickly so he can head back to his post."

"Do not worry, Thernadier. I think we can all assume where your daughter was. If she was not here and she was with a friend whose name she would rather not give," There was a cruel laugh upon Javert's lips then, more of a bark that made Eponine cringe than an actual laugh, "it is obvious that your _darling pearl_ has taken a lover. Do not bother me again with this nonsense! What do I care if your brats go missing from out from under you?" With that final snap he was making his way down the creaking stairs, sending no backward glances at the three of them huddled in the doorway. In silence, her father's hand slipped down to clutch at her neck. The flames of humiliation were so high in her cheeks that she feared she might catch afire, how dare he make assumptions? True or not, it was not important; simply because she was not a lady in finery she was assumed to be a whore?

"I don't care what you do on your own time but do not disrupt my meanings! Do not bring embarrassment upon this family with a bastard, either!" It was only a few slaps across the face and a final bang of her head against the wall before the door was slammed in her face. By the time she'd slid to her knees, leaning against the wall with closed eyes, she was able to piece together the idea that her parents were trying to prove themselves decent people to Javert. Why they decided this was important now made no sense to her, but for once she was being excluded from plans and all that could mean was that she was unexpected to participate.

Heading back onto the street she found her feet carrying her to the bench she'd sat at the last time she'd encountered the inspector. Eating her apple on her lonesome she looked out over the water and felt a sense of ease run through her muscles. Her father's awfulness would not bring her down, not after a beautiful night with a dear friend who would surely help her win Marius. Even Javert had been polite to her, at least polite enough to look away from her father's embarrassing temper, never mind his embarrassing (yet true) accusations. The world was looking up, whether she believed this because of her successful sexual escapade, the food filling her stomach, or the simple breeze of spring she did not know, but what mattered was the belief itself. Things were getting better; she was going to be fine.

Marius was drunk and as a drunk man it was his duty to make stupid decisions, Eponine was grateful for this. Courfeyrac had apparently given him a few tips, Eponine felt free to note, as Marius stuck a knee between her thighs and took the liberty of rolling it against her. She faked a moan in hope that he would relax his pressing knee and attempted to distract him with unbuttoning her dress. His window was open in the summer heat and the humidity had them both flushing. As soon as her dress was fully unbuttoned he helped her shrug it to the floor with her tattered shawl, falling to his knees he took a pert breast in his mouth and she grinned at the picture. He was drunk, yes, but he was still here. Not only here, but on his knees attempting to pleasure her with blushing cheeks and shaking hands.

"Get up." Eponine didn't mean the order to seem harsh, but she couldn't help grabbing at his freckled shoulders and pulling him to his feet. There was no point continuing rolling his lukewarm tongue over her bored nipple, it did nothing but make her squirm against the uncomfortable wall. Marius rose, blush high in his ears, but looking rather satisfied with his skills. Feeling brave, she took his hand in her own and led him to the bed, pushing him down onto his back.

"What're you…?" He trailed off as she brought a kiss to his lips before she slid down onto him, tossing her head back at the comfortable feeling of allowing him to fill her. Green eyes wide at her act, Marius simply watched as Eponine sought her pleasure. Rocking, bouncing, rolling her hips on him she almost grew frustrated at his lack of experience. Had she honestly been his only lover? In all these months, he hadn't sought out anyone else to serve his needs? Courfeyrac had taken her all throughout spring, and now nearing the midseason of summer she'd only taken a break because he seemed distant eyed when she spoke to him. Eponine trailed her own fingers down to her core, grinning at the way Marius cursed at the sight in front of him, head rolling back onto the pillow as she pleasured herself with his help. His moans were growing more and more fervent and Eponine grinned to herself at the idea of it, proud to know she was bringing them both to their brinks. Imagine that _she_, Eponine Thernadier, a worthless rat of the street was able to make Marius happy!

"Cosette!" Eponine froze, but Marius was still bucking beneath her. Fuming she rolled away from him quickly, feeling no shame in stalking nude across his flat to yank her clothing on. He had not finished and was apologizing profusely from his spot on the bed, obviously still dazed in his pleasure. The tears were falling as she came to stand by his bedside.

"I once thought you were too good for me, that I was just a dirty piece of material that would be _lucky_ to have you bed me. But now I see the truth, you're nothing but a worthless boy! I've never been so humiliated in my life."

The door had slammed loudly behind her and there was a pain so deep in her chest that she was scared she would die of suffocation. Her sobs were loud as she tripped out onto the street; humiliation was not a strong enough word for what she felt. The ache in her heart was so sharp that she went stumbling into an alley way not far from her home, too embarrassed to return in such a state and thankful for the black cloak of the insufferable summer night. Shameful tears scorched down her face and onto her poorly buttoned dress, leaning against the alley wall she gasped up at the full moon. Why was she born a Thernadier? What awful act had forced her to suffer this fate? Even when pleasuring the man of her dreams he could not but close his eyes and call out another name. When _he _was the one to blame for her misery, and her lack of pleasure in their first bedding!

The alley wall was damp beneath her fingers and she took a moment to rest her forehead against the coolness. Gasping for air as tears continued to leak out of her eyes. The tweaking of her heart was so intense she thought it possible she could faint, and wrapping her arms around her midsection was more for stability than security. How long she stood there for was a mystery to her, she could not stop the waves of atrocious thoughts that continued to pour through her mind. Images of Marius desperately moving under her, thoughts of days spent hoping he would notice and be jealous of something between her and Courfeyrac, the horror of returning home to her parents to find that not even her family would care to comfort her. This final thought sent another racking breath through her thin form, before she felt a cool glove on her shoulder. Upon spinning she cursed herself for even being curious upon who the intruder of such a private moment would be.

"Inspector," It was a pathetic snivel as she used her shawl to wipe at her hands and nose, "I can assure you there is no law against crying in public." She was surprised when a spotless, silk handkerchief appeared in front of her eyes; Eponine looked at him in confusion.

"You know I will dirty this if I use it, don't you?"

"Damn you, girl! If you need the handkerchief, simply be polite and take what is offered to you!" Glaring, she took the white material and wiped at her face. Pulling it away revealed tears marks amongst grime and soot. She took the liberty to blow her nose before offering it back to him, rolling her eyes when his hand shook her away.

"Do you need an escort back to your house?" He spoke to the spot on the wall above her head, voice gruff and hands clasped behind his back. As if she was not good enough to even be addressed like a human being.

"We both know I do not live in anything close to resembling a house. What do you want from me?"

"Girl, I am simply being polite." Javert's figure suddenly seemed as intimidating as she remembered it being the first time she had encountered him, in the winter time. She'd been pleased with having had Marius make love to her, the memories brought more tears to her eyes and she used the silk handkerchief to wipe them away in embarrassment. His looming figure seemed much bigger than it had seemed when he was squished outside of her family's flat.

"I have a name and it is not _girl_!" She snapped, walking away from the conversation and heading down the alley in the opposite direction of her home. So many emotions is such a little amount of time had her feeling cloudy-headed, as if another change would simply pull her off her feet and into the clouds, allowing her to sleep off the sudden exhaustion that hung heavy in every bone and muscle.

"Mademoiselle! Halt!" Nothing but the desire to remain out of jail made her stop, but she snorted as she did so, turning to look at him. Stubborn as he was he had refused to move from his spot in the alley and spoke to her from a few feet away. Standing her ground she crossed her arms, halting but not speaking.

"Mademoiselle, what is your father planning?" The absurdity of the question made her laugh. Full out wheezing laughter, clutching her sides with tears rolling down her face as he stood staring at her in confusion. What a fool! What a joke! What insanity! To think her father had filled her in on his plans when Javert had been part of the key instigators in Thernadier's distrust of her.

"I have no clue. Ask my father." Turning on her heel she moved to walk away, still laughing to herself, she felt rather than heard his heavy footsteps on the pavement and a gasp left her body as he used his full weight to push her against the alley wall.

"Do not test me, Mademoiselle. I will have my answers." Large. There was no other way to describe the man. In height he positively shadowed her, he had to at least double her in weight, although the fingers that held her wrists clasped above her head were positively nimble and agile, thin even.

"Does it have anything to do with the criminal Valjean? Or the girl? The blonde girl he keeps with him?" The questions were insanity, spoken quickly and desperately, as if he did not realize his actions against her or the way his entire body was molded against hers. Finally she was able to place the foreign smell, it was mint. Tears continued to puddle at the hollow of her collarbone as he spoke close to her face, his mint breath tickling against her nose.

"Inspector, you are speaking nonsense as well as crushing me!" A light flickered amongst grey and he seemed to find himself for the first time, his grip upon her wrists loosening slightly but not releasing. An internal struggle was visible in his eyes, was propriety worth losing what he wanted? For a moment, Marius came to her mind, the idea of Marius pressed up against her sent goose bumps across her skin. She would never have thought disgust could accompany a thought of him, but he had managed to sink so low in her mind.

"Eponine, I am not a man to plead. But I beg of you-" It was all she needed to hear; she pressed her lips to his and moaned against the cool mint. Javert pulled away, as expected, cringing down at her in a mix of confusion and disgust. Nervously she pressed another kiss to his lips, this time warmth spreading through her as he responded. She was shocked, unsure of what had made her make the move but completely positive that it was something they both needed. Even if the attraction between them was nothing but tension and basic approval of each other's bodies, it was attraction still.

One hand remained above her head, clasping her wrists uncomfortably against the crumbling dark wall, the other immediately reached to cup a breast. Surprisingly skilled fingers made her whimper against him, it was clear this was a familiar sin to him. Eponine's trembling hands found their way to his trousers, unhooking and struggling with clasps more complicated than any she'd dealt with before. A gruff order for her to hurry sent shivers down her spine and she kissed fervently at the side of his neck, pleased to hear his growl of need in response. The thought struck her, as he lifted her skirts and slid a hand between her thighs, that she'd never been with a man before. Marius was as far from a man as she thought possible, and Courfeyrac was experienced but not quite a man. The feeling was quite exquisite; she decided quickly when he pressed into her. It was rough, heavy, and if he hadn't been considerate enough to move a hand behind the crown of her head, she might have been knocked out.

She had expected this, of course, to be used forcefully for his pleasure. Almost like a rag doll, the way he guided her legs around his waist for better access. The motion left her calling into his mouth for more, senses overflowing with mint and something more that she still couldn't place. She had not, however, expected the look in his eyes. The grey orbs stared down at her with such a blazing intensity she thought that he might possibly be punishing her for something, ignorance probably. Clawing at his uniform wasn't quite as satisfying as she needed it to be and she found her fingers had found their way into his collar and were scratching there instead.

At the feeling of his skin bleeding down his back he pulled out of her and finished on the ground. In the movement to push her skirt down, unsatisfied for the second time that night, she let out yet another gasp when he pushed his hand back between her thighs. Rocking against his hand she feared of going delirious with pleasure, moaning loudly at his rough lips and teeth burning at her throat and pinching at her breasts. Her ecstasy was found quickly and Javert had the courtesy to keep his hand within her for a few moments, leaning her back against the wall and breathing heavily down upon her trembling form. When he pulled away she offered his handkerchief to wipe his hands with, he accepted with the closest thing to a smile she'd ever seen on his grim face.

"I apologize, Mademoiselle. I trust that neither of us will speak of this." Her answer was a jerk of her head, pleased that he took the hint and left her to walk herself back to the flat.

Sore between her legs she was dizzy, smelling of him, mint was the only thing she could comprehend and the memory of him moving so thickly between her legs was enough to have her clamping a hand over her mouth as she sat in the hallway and found her pleasure again just at the idea of him. The experience was so overcoming that she was quivering and shaking with silent sobs, emotions a blur and undefined. All that she could comprehend was that she could feel everything, never before had her thoughts seemed so clear and organized. No, she decided, straightening her skirts enough to sneak into her small cot near Alzema, bedding a man was much different than the boys she'd been with before. Better and addicting, that was definite.


End file.
